Jackson Gregory

“ For as he fired, Farley had thrown the muzzle of his gun downward so that the ball plowed through the sand at the feet of Virginia Dalton's father, and Dalton's bullet had winged its way high overhead, seeking the far shore of the lake.
"—— you!" cried Farley shrilly, a red flood of blood in his face as he understood. "Why did you do that? Do you want to be killed, man?"
The man who could have killed him had spared him, the man who had murdered Johnny Watson had stood up courting death and had made no attempt to save himself. ”

“ For here, showing so that a novice must have seen and known and understood the glittering premise of it, was a great vein of gold laid bare against the bottom of the cliff-side, where last year's snows had set the rocks free above; where the side of the cliff had fallen outward disclosing the thing which the mountains had hidden so well and so long.
It was as rich as any pocket the miner had ever seen—richer. And it was not a pocket at all, but a wide, deep vein which ran back into the mountainside ”

“ And the knowledge only maddened the man who had chosen to die himself at the hand of the man he could not kill—no, not even to "square things" for a dead partner.
"I have killed two men in fair fight in my life," Dalton told him sternly, his own face flushed hotly. "I am not going to kill a third. And I do not choose to be made to look like a fool French dude in a polite duel! Are you going to kill me?"
Farley laughed evilly.
"In fair fight!" he mocked. "To cut the throat out of a man before he had seen you, to sneak up on him in the dark—and you call that fair fight!" ”